


Not All Those Who Wander...

by CarnalCoffeeBean



Series: Pendant [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Departure from Canon, Gen, Season 3 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnalCoffeeBean/pseuds/CarnalCoffeeBean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a quiet, sunny day, when Lydia Martin leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All Those Who Wander...

It's a quiet, sunny day, when Lydia Martin leaves.

She's spoken with the guidance counselor and passed all the necessary entrance exams with flying colors. All the paperwork is done, hours and hours and hours of it, forms filled out in triplicate, signed and sent in to be filed away and never looked at again. She's reassured her mother, when she'd put down the phone and tried to look concerned, that this is what she wants to do.

.

"But don't you want the high school experience?" Her fingers twitch; she casts a glance at her phone as it lights up, but bites her lip and waits for Lydia's answer.

A serious discussion, then.

"Mother, what would I be missing out on? When will I get a better opportunity than this?"

Her mother hesitates, taking a sip out of her stainless-steel travel mug to stall. "You could get your grades higher or try and get your extracurriculars in order. It might boost your scholarship."

"My scholarship is perfectly adequate, mother. If you don't want to pay for the rest-" Her mother cuts her off.

"No, no, the money's not a problem, don't even worry about it. God knows if your father hears about it- Anyways. I just want to make sure-" She stops and looks down at the mug in her hands. "I just want to make sure it's what you want."

Lydia bites back a laugh. It's the first thing she's had any control over in a while, she doesn't say. It's the first thing that feels real, that feels like it's true and honestly hers, that isn't some unexplainable mystic darkness seeping into her brain, whispering to her, making her doubt her senses, ripping her control from her; that isn't Jackson judging her, or Derek Hale looking speculatively at her, or Scott and Allison sending worried glances her way in the halls, when they think won't notice. It isn't _Stiles Stilinski_ knowing more about what was going on with her boyfriend, with herself, than she did; it isn't everyone thinking she's crazy, hurrying past her, the pointing and whispers, the new-formed popular clique that preens and laughs as she walked by.

She could gain it all back; she can see how, now, what she'd have to do, the plans laid out in color-coded flowcharts in her mind. The problem is, it's not worth it.

Lydia Martin has options, goddamnit.

Screw them.

Screw this.

"I am sure," she says. "This is what I want."

.

She leaves on an August morning with a whisper of September blowing through the leaves.

Her father loads her luggage into the car and asks for the tenth time if she'd rather he came with her to help unpack. His eyes stay glued to the screen of his smartphone. She laughs and tells him that she'll be fine; hooking up a mini-fridge can't be harder than advanced trig. He chuckles back, pulls her in for an awkward hug, and is gone in a flash of squealing tires and red paint.

Her mother's next off, with some meeting or another, but she still takes time out to chat, to remind Lydia to call at each state, and if anything goes wrong, to call her right away. She ruffles Lydia's hair as they pull apart; it's nice. Lydia didn't think it would be.

Allison's sitting on the back of the barely-closed trunk, leaning over with her elbows on her thighs when she goes 'round to the driver's seat.

"You don't have to go, you know," she says. Her eyes are big and round and wet, and Lydia remembers that she's Allison's only real friend now. Allison's her only real friend, too; she has been for a while. That's all about to change for her, though, while Allison- Allison has to deal with things in her own way.

Lydia doesn't do comfort well. Still, she pulls Allison off the car trunk and into a hug. Allison's hair brushes her cheek, and Lydia feels her shudder. She pretends not to hear the slight sniff.

"It'll be fine; you can come along in a few years, and we'll have a great time together." She steps back, flashing her infamous devil-may-care grin, and feels a bit of her old playfulness coming back to her. "We'll go to all the best parties, get into the most interesting classes, bang the hottest guys, and not give a damn what gets in our way. Yeah?"

Allison scoffs, but Lydia pins her with a look. "You're coming to MIT with me. It'll just take you longer, understandably." She looks away, nose in the air, heart pounding a little faster. "Or don't. I don't care; either way will be fun for me."

Allison moves back into her space, takes her hand. "You know you have a tell when you lie?" Allison's grin sits wobbly on her mouth, and Lydia allows herself to smile back, just a little bit.

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do." Lydia arches an eyebrow, and Allison laughs. "But now you have to call me, so I can tell you what it is."

"I'd call you anyways; I'm sure the size of the room is going to be entirely inadequate, and it's a sad fact of life that idiots are everywhere." She sighs, playing a touch dramatic. "I have to have someone to complain to when life is going horribly."

"Just don't try to explain the math to me, ok?" Allison's full-out grinning now, and Lydia feels something inside her relax at the sight of it.

"No promises!" she winks, then waves a hand cheerily with her other hand on the driver-seat door. Allison shakes her head as she turns back to her car. Lydia watches the car until it turns right and disappears from view.

Buckled into the car and key in the ignition, Lydia takes a last, cursory glance at the house and gives it a shrug. "Mine'll be bigger."

.

She puts the car in reverse and peels out into the street. On the interstate, she glances back at the _Beacon Hills_ sign and feels the most curious thing, like she's shaking the ash of Beacon Hills from her tires, her feet, her mind. She grins.

"Ok, then," she murmurs. "Let's do this."

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually not planned as part of the Pendant series; I just needed to write out my emotions today, and Lydia happened to fit quite nicely with my mood. The title comes from Tolkien's poem, "All That is Gold Does Not Glitter," which, if I'd had any sense or forethought ever, it would've been wonderful to use every line as a title for a series of character-driven shorts. Ah, well. Hindsight's a bitch.
> 
> Also, the slight Allison/Lydia was not meant as romantic but could, now that I'm rereading it, be taken that way. Read into it as you wish.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed, and any comments/constructive criticism/etc. would be wonderful!


End file.
